A New Strength
by SiriusBlack4Ever
Summary: In one day, Harry learned that he had a new problem, a new power, and a new friend. Now that a week has gone by, is he still able to continue moving forward? Or will these new things prevent that? Sequel to 'More Pain Then I Can Bear.'
1. Chapter 1

_A/N1: I've finally put up this chapter for you people. Your welcome in advance. As you probably guessed from the summary, this is the sequel to"More Pain Than I Can Bear," meaning that you should probably read that one before reading any more of this. Anyway, this story picks up about a week after the last one left off, and focuses more on Harry's new 'power',which meansthat there's going to be a little more action in this story. However, Harry is still dealing with the 'problem' of his that arose in my last story, so again, that will be present in this one as well. __Happy reading, and enjoy!_

-o- **A New Strength** -o-

A Sequel to 'More Pain Than I Can Bear'

Written by SiriusBlack4Ever

Chapter 1

Harry Potter sat in his deceased godfather's room in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, a room that now belonged to him while he was staying there over the summer holidays before his Sixth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The room was dimly lit by a small set of candles that were resting on the bedside table, and they were making the objects in the room cast large and flickering shadows on the walls. But once again, Harry Potter was not paying any attention to the things in the room around him. No, he was absorbed in something different; something completely different.

He had his left arm held out in front of him, and he was staring at the hardened-over wound on his shoulder. It was about two inches long, and had a brown crusted layer over it, protecting the delicate contents inside of it. He looked at the bottom of the wound, and stared down at the thin pink line that ran from it, down to the crease at his elbow. The line gleamed eerily in the soft candlelight, and it looked much worse than it normally did.

He stared at the line a while before he looked down the rest of the length of his arm, to where the deep gash on the underside of his wrist was. It had been even deeper than the one on his shoulder; at least twice as deep, in fact. Like the other, it had formed a brown crusty layer on top of it, though it still hurt incredibly bad when it was touched or bumped.

He just stared down at all of these marks on his arms, ones that could be healed magically within a few seconds, but that he chose to have healed naturally. He preferred to do it this way, because then he thought that they would serve as a reminder to him of the times when he had felt so depressed, and also act as a reminder to him of the pain he went through, making it so that he wouldn't want to do it again.

As he stared down at the marks on his arms, he felt his eyes fill up slightly with tears. He waited a minute before he let them fall down his face, and once they finally let loose, they didn't seem to stop. He wasn't making any noise, he wasn't making any movements. The only thing in the room that was moving were the tears that were flowing down his face, and his eyes which were slowly moving around in their sockets, working their way up and down his arm.

There was a soft knock on his door, but Harry made no attempt to answer it. He just stayed where he was on the bed, staring at his arm and wrist. The person on the other side of the door knocked again, and still Harry paid it no attention. He just kept his face glued to his scars. Finally, the person slowly pushed open the door to make their way into the room.

_What's the point of knocking?_ Harry thought to himself. He still didn't take his watering eyes off the sight in front of him, though he heard the tentative footsteps of the person in his room walking over to where he sat.

"Harry?" they asked uncertainly, and still without sparing him a glance, Harry knew that the voice belonged to Professor Lupin, or Remus as he was now being asked to call him. Harry just blinked a few times, and continued to stare.

"Harry," Lupin said again, this time phrasing it more as a statement than a question. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Still he said nothing. He didn't think that he wanted to talk right now. Too much was running through his mind at the moment. He kept seeing himself, slashing the blade over his wrist violently, practically stabbing it once. He saw the blood gushing out of it like raging rapids. He saw himself parting the skin on his shoulder with the blood-crusted shard, and perfectlyremembered seeing the blood flowing down from the wound, and tracing it again with the blade, cutting the skin all the way down to his elbow.

He remembered everything so vividly, and the more he thought about it, the sicker he became. He couldn't believe that he had done this to himself. Just seeing these scars made him relive everything again and again, and he almost wished that they were gone, that they couldall just leave.

"Harry," Remus said, sitting down on the bed next to him. "Harry, what's wrong with you? Are you all right?"

Harry still didn't respond, and his tears only increased, turning into sobs. Remus leaned over and placed his strong arms around Harry's limp form and embraced him. Harry shuddered at the sudden touch, and at first tried to pull away. But just like that day when his wrists were bleeding freely and Remus had embraced him, he finally gave in and relaxed into his arms. He again grabbed his old, frayed and tattered robes, and clung to them with his hands, sobbing into his chest.

Remus again just tightened his hold around Harry, and whispered, "It's all right, Harry. It's all right." But the thing was, Harry knew it wasn't all right. He knew that things in his mind were completely messed up now, and again, it scared him. Part of him wished to never cut himself ever again, but another part of him thought that, if he had something sharp enough in his hand right now, he would indeed cut himself at this very moment.

"Remus," he whispered through his tears, and there was a pleading note in his voice. "Remus, please, help me. Help me."

Again, Remus just tightened his grip some more, and said, "I will, Harry. I will help you."

But he didn't seem to understand what was happening right now. He just seemed to think that Harry needed his help in general, but he really needed so much more than that. He needed for Remus to do something now; he needed him to restrain himself somehow. He didn't seem to realize that Harry was on the verge of grabbing the nearest sharp object and slashing it across his skin again.

"Remus," he tried again, his voice still soft. "I need help. Now, Remus. Remus, I'm going to do it again. I'm going to do it again, Remus. Please, help me. Help me. Help me."

Remus seemed to suddenly comprehend what Harry was talking about, and he quickly pushed Harry out in front of him, grasping a hold of his shoulders. "Harry," he said, his voice sounding urgent, his eyes flashing. "You cannot cut yourself again, all right? I'm not going to let you, okay? You just hold on. Just let it all out now, let everything out, and don't be afraid. You don't need to cut yourself to feel better, Harry. Just cry it out, let it all out."

Again, Harry slumped against him, and Remus ran his hands over his back, whispering to him again, telling him it was going to be okay. Harry's sobs slowly lessened, and he began to get all his proper feelings back. All the thoughts of cutting himself had been lost with the tears that he had shed, and he slowly sat up again to face the man in front of him.

"Thank-you, Remus," he said quietly, after he wiped his eyes dry. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come in here. I think I may have really cut myself again, as much as I regret doing it the first time it happened."

Remus looked slightly worried again, and said, "Harry, why would you want to cut yourself anymore after what happened last time? I mean, look at you." Here, he paused and gestured towards Harry's left arm. "You've got scabs up and down your arm, and you're going to have scars there for the rest of your life. How could you do something like that to yourself again?"

"I don't know," he said slowly, the tears threatening to sprout again. "It's like an addiction; kind of like the problems that some people have with alcohol or smoking, I suppose. It's like, when you're feeling normal, you vow to never do it again. But then the second you get depressed, all those feelings are gone, and you feel like you just have to do it again or you're never going to get better."

Remus looked thoughtful. "I think I understand what you're saying, Harry," he said, furrowing his brow. Harry nodded, then looked away towards the wall.

"Are you all right now, Harry?" Remus asked him, his voice showing just a touch of worry. Harry again nodded his head. "Okay, well, I think I'm going to go down to the kitchen to get something to eat. Unless, of course, you'd like me to stay a little longer," he added in quickly.

Harry shook his head. "No, you don't need to stay up here. In fact, I don't think I need to stay up here right now either," he added. "I'll go down with you."

Remus smiled, and then stood up and headed for the door, Harry following behind him. They got out onto the landing, and headed down to the basement where the kitchen was. They stopped in front of the door to pull it open, and then walked inside, noticing someone sitting at the table.

Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, was seated at the table, his face buried in a piece of parchment in front of him, his long, greasy black hair just barely touching it. As they stepped in, he looked up with his usual smirk, but after taking one look at Harry, the look vanished.

"Harry, are you all right?" he asked him, a slight note of worry in his voice. Harry just nodded his head, and shared a quick glance with Remus, before sitting at the table while Remus went to grab some leftovers from dinner.

Snape was still looking at him with that same concerned expression, and it was all Harry could do to hide a snicker. Never, in his whole five years at Hogwarts, had Snape ever looked at Harry that way. He had always shown him a face of loathing, and Harry had to admit that he returned the look as well. But the week before, when he had first cut himself, he had actually helped him out a lot, and they had both ended up sharing a lot of very personal things with each other. Snape had even confessed that he had been a cutter once, and had told Harry about his experiences and why it was a bad thing to do.

Harry snapped out of his day dreaming when Remus came and sat down at the table, setting down a cup of tea and a plate of chicken in front of him. Harry, who had skipped dinner because he had been upstairs staring at his arms, quickly dived into his food. He wasn't paying attention to the two adults around him, but looked up suddenly when he felt both their gazes on him.

"What?" he asked through a mouthful of chicken, looking from one to the other.

"Harry, you're starting to look like Ron," Remus said sternly, though there was a trace of laughter in his voice. "Swallow before you talk."

"Yes, Harry, please do," Snape told him, his face back to it's normal serious nature. "I don't want to have my own dinner spilled out in front of me because I was watching you eat."

Harry smirked slightly at him and swallowed, before repeating, "Now, why were both staring at me?" Snape looked over at Remus before speaking.

"Well, you came in here looking pretty – depressed," he finally said. Harry tensed up slightly.

"Well, I was a litter, err – depressed – but I'm fine now," he said. "Really," he added, when Snape continued to look at him.

"You didn't cut yourself again, did you?" Snape asked quickly, stealing a glance at his wrists.

"No, I didn't cut myself again," Harry said, a slight edge to his voice when he spoke.

"He almost did, though," Remus said quietly, looking over at him. Harry looked back at him.

"No I didn't. I didn't even go anywhere near a blade of any kind," he said heatedly.

"No, but you did say that, had I not been there, you probably would have cut yourself," Remus put in, looking a little surprised at Harry's anger. Harry just looked away from him, and stared down at the floor below him.

"Listen, Harry," Snape said, and Harry looked up at him. "It's normal to get sudden urges every once in a while, especially so soon after the first time you do it. But that doesn't mean that it's okay, by any means. I'm just saying that it happened to me as well."

"But," he said, his voice becoming even more serious. "Like I said, that doesn't mean that it's okay. In fact, it's even more important that you resist these urges, because doing so will help you to finally be able to break the habit of doing it."

Harry nodded, and looked at Snape intently for another minute, before looking back down at the floor. He didn't really want to finish his dinner anymore; he had suddenly lost his appetite. Sensing this, Remus stood up and took their plates.

"Well, I'll just go put these in the sink, and then, if you'd like, we can work a bit on your wandless magic," he said, smiling. Harry's face instantly lit up, and he stood up from the table, looking like an excited and impatient child on Christmas morning. He had recently discovered that he could do real wandless magic, and Remus was helping him practice it and learn how to use it correctly. It was actually a lot harder than it looked, and Harry wasn't aware of anyone else at Hogwarts that was able to do it.

After Remus had stuck the dishes in the sink, he had walked back to the table, and said, "Well, shall we?"

Harry nodded, smiling, and turned around to face Snape. "Good-night, Professor," he said.

"Good-night, Harry," he said, and then leaned back over the parchment in front of him and began to work. Harry and Remus walked to the kitchen door and went out through it. They walked up into the study where Harry practiced his Occlumency with Snape, and stood on one edge of the room.

"All right Harry, are you ready?" Remus asked him. Harry looked up at him and said, "Yes, I'm ready."

Then he stuck his hand out in front of him and said, "_Accio book!_"

_A/N2: I'd quickly like to take this oppurtunity to say a few things. First, thanks to all who read the last story, "More Pain Than I Can Bear," and even more to all those who reviewed. It was greatly appreciated. Second, I'd like to respond to a few questions and comments that keep continually coming up in reviews. First off, to all who asked to contribute ideas and such for this story, I greatly appreciate it. However, this story, as well as the sequel to this one,are already finished, so I do not need anymore help. Thanks for the offers anyway! Second, I would like to point out one important thing: I am not a cutter. All of this came from my imagination, though I had some references from other stories and from personal accounts of people I know. None of this is based off of personal experience. Finally, I have gotten some complaints about this story being gorey and violent, and being somewhat of an influence to people that tells them they need to cut themselves. To the ones who say it'sgoreyand violent, I'm going to say that I did warn you, and that it is rated the way it isfor a reason. If you don't like it because of that, do not complain to me about it.You don't have to read it if you don't want.As for those who say that I am trying to be an influence, let me tell you that I am not. I never have, and never will promote cutting yourself. It's a horrible problem, and I feel bad for people who feel they need to resort to that. This story is _fiction_, and is not meant to be taken literally. Also, I haven't exactly portrayed cutting in a great light here, and was hoping that would rub off. I've had people whom I don't even know thatwere cutters at one point or anothertelling me that they thought the story was great and was very encouraging, because it shows people the dangers of cutting. Again, I clearly mentioned that there was cutting, and it is rated appropriately, so if you're going to complain, please at least take that into consideration beforehand. Sorry about all this, but I had to rant, like every good person does sometimes. Please enjoy this story, and I'll try to be quicker with updates on this one. Oh, and always remember that reviews are appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The book whizzed through the room into Harry's outstretched hand. He looked up at Remus, who was looking down at him with a smile on his face.

"Well done, Harry," he said, his voice sounding proud. "Now, how about you try something a little harder? A Summoning Charm is good for a warm-up, but it's a fairly easy spell. See if you can, say, vanish something."

Harry looked skeptical. "Vanish something?" he asked him, raising his eyebrows. "I can barely do that with my wand! How am I going to be able to do it using wandless magic if I have a hard enough time doing it with that?"

Remus shrugged slightly. "Well, it's still possible."

"I think I'll try something different," Harry said dryly, and Remus chuckled slightly.

"Okay," he said, still smiling. "Then why don't you try to reduce an object? That's something you haven't done yet."

Harry nodded, then placed the book he was holding into his left hand. He then held his right hand over it, and said, "_Reducio!_" The book shrunk down to the size of a square shaped gumball, and Harry picked it up between his two fingers. "I wonder if even Hermione would ever attempt to read this one," he said, clearly amused. Remus again chuckled, and said, "Probably."

Harry placed it back in the palm of his left hand, and held his right over it. Then he enlarged it back to it's normal size. "Seems a pity to walk all the way over to the other side of the room to put it back," he said. He kept his right hand where it was, and said, _"Wingardium Leviosa!_" The book began to float in the air above his hand, and he directed it back over to it's place on the shelf.

"Wonderful job, Harry," Remus told him. "Very well done indeed. Now, I wonder if perhaps you could use an even more complicated spell. I wonder if – no, never mind."

"Never mind what?" Harry asked him, clearly curious as to what he was about to say.

"Well, I thought that maybe you could do the Patronus Charm, but I think that one may just be a bit too hard," Remus said with a slight apologetic note.

"What do you mean, too hard?" Harry asked him incredulously. "I learned how to do it with my wand in a few months time even though you said some full-grown wizards couldn't even do it! What makes you think I'm incapable of doing it now?"

"It's not that I think you're incapable of doing it," Remus said. "I'm just saying it may not work right away. Just because you've mastered it with your wand does not mean that you will be able to do it now. Besides, even if you could, as I've told you before: it isn't the same if you don't have a real Dementor present."

"Well, then let's get one!" Harry said loudly, and when Remus looked slightly shocked he continued. "For Merlin's sake – I don't mean a _real_ one. I mean a boggart one; you know, like we did in my third year." Remus, once again, chuckled.

"And what, may I ask, is so funny?" Harry asked him.

"You just seem so eager to do this," he told him. "I don't think I've seen you this excited to do something since I told you I'd teach you the Patronus Charm for the first time. Besides, we are dealing with Dementors here, and we all know that those obviously aren't your favorite creatures if that's what a boggart turns into when it sees you."

Harry sighed. "Well, I want to learn how to do this. In the Prophecy, it mentions something about _'...But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...'_ and I think this may just be that power that he doesn't know I have, especially because I didn't even know about it until last week. So, if that's true, then that means that I have to really get the hang of this thing before I'm up against him."

"Besides," he added. "Even if that's not what the Prophecy is talking about, I'm going to have to learn how to do it anyway, because if I only have my wand against him, then all we're going to be able to do is that whole 'Prior Incantatem' thing again, and as we already know, that doesn't accomplish much."

Remus appeared a little somber at Harry's last few statements. "Yes, I suppose that you're right, Harry," he said. "But we should still make this fun. Even if this does, as you assume, have to do with your destiny, it shouldn't be another thing to hold you down."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I s'pose," he said, and then let out a soft sigh. "Well, we better get to work then."

"Harry, why don't you just try the Patronus Charm right now?" Remus asked him as though wanting to make him feel better. "I know it isn't the same, but until I can round up a boggart, you might as well practice the general spell."

Harry brightened slightly at this news, and smiled a bit. "All right," he said, and he closed his eyes. He began trying to think of a happy thought. He could no longer use the one about Sirius being free, because that now turned into the thought that that would never happen for him, meaning that it became a bad memory. So he tried yet again to think of something else.

He immediately thought of 'befriending' Snape last week, but then the circumstances that had led up to that popped into his mind, and he knew that one wouldn't do either. He then thought of when he had given Fred and George his Triwizard money, and had helped them open up the joke shop. But once again, the events leading up to that appeared in his mind, and he decided that the memory wasn't going to be strong enough either.

Finally, he thought of something that really did make him happy. He thought of when Fred and George had escaped the castle the year before, and how they had defied Umbridge and had been responsible for Peeves giving her all the hell he had for the rest of the term. The thought actually brought a smile to his face now, and he thought it may just be strong enough for him.

So, he stuck his hand out in front of him, keeping his eyes shut to focus entirely on the memory, and to also focus on the spell which he was about to attempt to shoot out through his hand. Once he was sure he was completely focused, he shouted out, _"Expecto Patronum!"_

He felt the shivery sensation of something flowing through him, and then felt the breeze of the spell flying through the skin on his outstretched hand. He opened his eyes, and saw that a stag had indeed erupted from his palm, and was galloping to the other side room. It turned around when it reached the wall, and then came cantering back towards him, before vanishing into thin air.

Harry stood there for a moment, staring at the place where the stag had been. He had a sudden feeling of calmness inside of him after seeing the Patronus that resembled his father's Animagus form. He looked up at Remus and realized that he too was staring at the spot. Harry could only imagine what he was feeling seeing his old friend again, even if it was only in the form of a Patronus.

Remus let out a small sigh, and continued to look at the spot. "Once again proving how much of your father is still in you, Harry," he said, and finally turned to look at Harry. He smiled somberly, and said, "Well, I know we haven't done much tonight, but perhaps we should stop here. I'll see if I can round up a boggart before your next lesson then, shall I?"

Harry nodded, and gave him a small smile. He wouldn't be practicing his wandless magic until the day after tomorrow again, because tomorrow night he would be doing Occlumency with Snape. He was actually quite good at that now, and they didn't need to focus so much on it anymore, but Dumbledore didn't want him to get out of practice, so he switched off between his two lessons every other night.

Remus gave a light yawn, and then said, "Well, I think I might turn in for the night then. Good-night, Harry." He then walked over, gave Harry a very light one-armed hug, and walked from the room. Harry stayed there for a minute, contemplating what he was going to do. He wasn't really tired, even though it was after ten o'clock, and he knew he would just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling if he tried to sleep. So he decided to do something else. Ron and Hermione had already gone to bed, he knew, considering the time, and he couldn't talk to Remus since he himself had just gone to bed.

He searched the room for an idea, and his eyes locked on the bookshelf. _I'm actually going to read_, Harry thought to himself, smiling. _Not something that I do very often, but it's the best I have now. At least Hermione will be proud of me._

He smiled a little more as he made his way over to the bookshelf. He scanned over the titles there, and found most were textbook style, and that most were on the Dark Arts. However, one caught his eye: _Legilimency – The Art of Accessing Others Memories and Emotions_, by Athena Woodrow.

Harry snorted. _What a happy title_, he thought to himself. _It's really an art, then; breaking into people's minds without their will._ He shook his head, and grabbed the book off the shelf. He then went over to one of the couches sitting in the room, sat down, and opened the book to read.

_'Legilimency is the power to open another's mind and read or sense their emotions or thoughts_,' the book read. _'Only very skilled witches and wizards are able to do it, as it is a very hard thing to learn. However, those that can do it often end up becoming very good, and some become so advanced in the art that they are able to create brand-new memories that they can place in another's mind. Not many can do Legilimency for a long period of time, since it is quite exhausting on the mind, and therefore only a small percentage of those people can perform it well enough to create the 'false images'.'_

Harry was actually finding the book very fascinating, another thing that didn't happen too often with him. But the thing was, it was so close to him, he couldn't help but be fascinated. Voldemort was one of these people that could create 'false images', so like Dumbledore had said, he had to be very skilled at Legilimency. Of course, Harry should have known that already; he was, after all, the most powerful dark wizard in the world, and he had had enough power to break through the wards and spells at Hogwarts to break into Harry's mind. It only made sense that he was able to produce these 'images'.

However, Harry began to think about something else. If Voldemort could create these images, could Snape? Everyone, even Remus, had said how good Snape was at Occlumency. Now, although Occlumency was different than Legilimency, you still had to have a lot of power to be that good, so it would make sense that Snape had enough power to do Legilimency that well, too. And, Snape had been doing Legilimency to break into Harry's mind, so the fact that he could do it at all made him wonder if he could in fact produce these images.

And, just as though reading his mind at that minute, Harry heard a voice above him that shook him from his thoughts. "You're actually reading, Harry?"

Harry jumped suddenly at the voice, and looked up into the amused face of his Potion's Professor.

"Oh, Professor," Harry said, his heart hammering against his ribs. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Obviously," Snape said, and the amusement on his face shown brighter. "I didn't expect to find you reading, Harry. Not something you do much, is it? And certainly not after ten?"

"Err, well, I wasn't tired, and there was really nothing else to do, so I thought I'd read a book," he said, and Snape actually began to smile.

"Tell me, what book could you be enjoying so much that you wouldn't notice someone walking in?" Snape asked him, peering at the book in his hands.

"It's called, err, _Legilimency – The Art of Accessing Others Memories and Emotions_, by Athena Woodrow" Harry told him, flipping the book over to check the cover again.

Snape's eyes grew a little rounder. "Where did that book come from?" he asked.

"It was on the bookshelf over there," Harry told him. "Why? Is there something wrong with it?"

"No," Snape said, sitting down on the chair across from him, getting a glossy look to his eyes as he studied the carpet in front of him. "No, it's just, that was the book I used to learn how to do Legilimency in the first place."

"So you are an expert in Legilimency," Harry told him, and Snape looked up at stared at him. "Well, I mean, I knew you were one at Occlumency, but I wasn't sure about Legilimency."

"Yes, well, I had to be," Snape said, shuddering slightly. "It was part of my position as a Death Eater. I always had to get the information from people, and if they wouldn't tell me, I had to use Legilimency to get it out of them."

Harry knew he wasn't too keen to talk about the subject, but he had to ask him the one question that was taking over his mind. "Professor, can you create, err, 'false images'?" he asked him hesitantly.

Snape stared hard at him. "Yes," he said finally. "I can. And why do you ask?"

"Well, because it said only witches or wizards who were very skilled Legilimens could do it, and I was just curious if you could," Harry told him, looking down at his hands. He could feel Snape's eyes on him, and knew he was watching him.

"That was how the Dark Lord communicated to you about your godfather, wasn't it?" he asked softly. Harry just nodded, looking up at him with a defeated look on his face. Then, before he knew it, he was spilling to Snape once again.

"Which is why it's my fault that Sirius died," he said thickly. "If I would have worked harder at Occlumency last year, I never would have gotten that image and Sirius would still be alive today. He wouldn't be gone – he would be here with me right now."

As he finished, angry tears started to pour down his face. It was entirely his fault that Sirius died, he knew that. No matter what anyone said, it was all his fault. He buried his face in his hands for the second time that day, and started to sob. He felt the couch sink next to him, and then felt Snape put an arm around his shoulder.

"Harry, it isn't your fault," he said softly. "It is not your fault that Sirius died. Even if you would have studied Occlumency harder, the Dark Lord still would have had enough power to break into your mind."

"Besides," he added. "If that wouldn't have all happened, Voldemort's return wouldn't have been announced to the entire world, and you and I wouldn't have learned to accept each other. I know you'd rather have Sirius back than those things, but good things did come out of it, Harry. And good things will continue to come out of it."

Harry's tears slowly stopped falling, and he looked into Snape's face. "Professor," he said, "thank-you for helping me again."

"You're welcome, Harry," he said, and then, after seeing the boy was all right again, he slowly got up. "Well, I've got to be going now. I'll see you tomorrow for your Occlumency lesson. Good-night, Harry."

"Good-night, Professor," Harry told him for the second time, and then, feeling suddenly exhausted, he lie back on the couch and fell asleep.


End file.
